


pick it up, pick it all up (and start again)

by brahe



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Blind Kanan Jarrus, Blindness, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Malachor, ezras feeling like a bad son, nothing graphic tho, post-injury treatment, season 2 finale coda, ultra space dad kanan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 14:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13273677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: They sit in silence, for how long Ezra doesn't know. His thoughts grow stronger as they swirl around him, whipping up into a hurricane of anger at everything that's unfolded in what feels like a blink. Ahsoka's gone, and Kanan's - Kanan can'tsee, and Ezra has never felt so lost.Or,Kanan and Ezra on thePhantomafter Malachor.





	pick it up, pick it all up (and start again)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm!!!!!!!! This show continously ruins my soul. Anyway, I was watching this and the huG after killed me and then when they land at chopper base kanan's got new bandages so ezra must have done those, which ended up turning into this monster where they cry a lot.
> 
> not read over and wrote after midnight so apologies for typos
> 
> title from medicine by daughter

The _Phantom_ is cold as it takes off, lights dim, Chopper flying them as stars flash by like streaks outside the front viewscreen.

Ezra had half-carried Kanan to the ship, set him down on the bench and collapsed next to him, trusting Chopper to get them off this hell planet and back to base.

They sit in silence, for how long Ezra doesn't know. His thoughts grow stronger as they swirl around him, whipping up into a hurricane of _regretangersadness_ at everything that's unfolded in what feels like a blink. The Inquistors, Maul, kriffing _Darth Vader_ , and Ezra almost let them win, almost _helped_ them win, all because he didn't think Kanan cared enough, the stupid holocron - 

He realizes the pyramid is still clutched in his fist, and he throws it across the small space of the ship, blinking against increasing blurry vision when it bounces away and behind the seat where Ahsoka sat on their way here, barely even _hours_ ago, and now she's _gone_  - 

He stands abruptly, too quickly to notice the way Kanan jolts at the loud crash, curls his hands into fists and makes to pace in the corridor, maybe take his mind off the way he got Ahsoka killed and almost lost Kanan in the process, too. But then Kanan's hand is reaching out for him, brushing against his side then his shoulder and sliding down his arm to wrap around his wrist, tight enough to keep Ezra from moving.

"Please don't - " he starts, cuts himself off, choking on pain and fear, "please don't walk away. I can't...it's very dark."

A second realization hits Ezra like a train - Kanan can't _see_ , stumbled up the stairs after Ezra with a mask over his face and hands held out in an attempt to navigate, and a thought plants itself in Ezra's mind, grows roots in seconds and leaves him breathless, like a punch to the heart, but he can't believe it, not yet.

The pain in Kanan's voice is more than Ezra's ever heard, making it high and tight and clipped, and now that he's paying attention he finds their bond, _weak_ , oh stars, so, _so_ , weak, faint and fading and full of _painpainpainfear._ Ezra panics, falls to his knees in front of Kanan as he throws the bond open as far as he can get it, feels Kanan's emotions run through him like small knives.

"Kanan," Ezra chokes, voice so thick even he can hardly tell what he's saying, but Kanan sways towards him, grips Ezra's other wrist and squeezes them both. "Kanan, oh, Force," he manages, before he's nearly throwing himself onto Kanan, arms around his back and face in his neck, shaking like a leaf, strung so high on emotion and thrown so open to the Force that he's miles beyond overwhelmed.

Kanan's arms come up to Ezra slowly, hesitantly, and they sit like this for a heartbeat, two, three, and then Ezra registers the feeling of the cool, foreign mask pressing against the side of his face and he wrenches himself away from Kanan, stopped again by Kanan's hands quickly scrambling for a grip, curled this time around his shirt and his forearm.

"Ezra," Kanan says, a poor imitation of the usual instructional tone, "Ezra, you need to calm down," he says.

"Calm - Kanan, I can't - " Ezra tries, a sob stuck in his throat.

"You're - you're too open. The bond, I can't keep it closed, you need to."

"No," Ezra's shaking his head before Kanan even finishes. "No, I can't, I can't, I - " He's got fists full of the front of Kanan's shirt, hands curling and uncurling as he trips over his words. How can Kanan expect him to shut down their bond when he knows what Kanan's feeling, knows that he'd be leaving him to deal with all of it alone? The pain is enough to be crippling, but the _fear,_ the bone-deep panic that's flowing into the Force around them like a torrent is downright debilitating.

"Let me," Ezra says, takes a deep and shuddering breath, starts over. "I'm going to get the med kit," he tells Kanan, slowly straightens his fingers and takes a step back. Kanan's hand tightens on his arm, and Ezra nods to himself. He'll be just able to reach the storage cabinet like this; doing it with one hand won't be easy, but like hell he's letting go of Kanan.

He gets the kit on the floor next to where he's kneeling, opens it, one hand still in Kanan's grip, and when he turns back to him, sees nothing but that foreign grey mask, he can't help the feelings of guilt and fear that rip into him anew. There's a soft gasp from Kanan as he slides slowly from the bench to the floor, knees on either side of Ezra, pressing against him, another point of contact in Kanan's dark world.

Ezra's hands flutter above him, searching for a way to help. "What happened, where are - are you hurt anywhere else?" he asks, wishing he could see Kanan's face, wishing there was something else he could do beside worry.

Kanan very slightly shakes his head. "Not pain," he says, still stilted. "You - the bond."

Ezra realizes what he means like a punch to the gut.

"'s not your fault," Kanan tells him, and it feels wrong.

"No," Ezra says, "how can you say that? All of this is my fault!" The guilt is back like a tidal wave, and he can't stop the tears that well up in his eyes; Ahsoka's gone and Kanan's wounded worse than anything Ezra's ever seen, all because he let himself be lured into trusting Maul. 

Ezra's guilt crashes into Kanan's already weak defenses, immensely powerful in its strength. He takes deep, shuddering breaths and reaches out for Ezra, feeling only air until his fingers find the fringes of Ezra's hair. He lets his hands rest on Ezra's head, one falling to the back of his neck and the other to his shoulder.

Ezra gets his breathing under as much control as it's going to be, and looks at the mask on Kanan's face. "I'm going to take the mask off, okay?" he says, and moves his arms slowly, makes sure the hand on his shoulder feels the movement. Just as the very tips of Ezra's finger brush the cool metal, Kanan's hands are wrapped around his wrists again, almost this side of too tight, holding him still and away while he takes several deep breaths. Ezra watches, silent, wishes he could go back and change this, and hates himself for wishing so much.

"Okay," Kanan says after a long moment, and he drops his hands, fiddling with the loose straps on Ezra's pants.

Ezra goes slower still, carefully pulls away the mask bottom to top and keeps his eyes on it as he sets it aside, steels himself the best he can for what he'll see when he turns back to Kanan.

His best is nowhere near good enough, and he barely, _barely_ manages to silent the gasp that swells in his throat. Kanan's eyes are closed, the area around them red and angry, a long slash of scorched and scarred flesh extending from one side of his face to the other. He can stop the gasp but he can't stop the burst of emotion that ripples through their bond, and he stares, silent, for one heartbeat, then another.

He's still staring when Kanan grimaces and blinks his eyes open, slowly and carefully. The effort pains him, Ezra can tell by the pulling of his features and the wisps in their bond, but his eyes are open, now, and he sits in silence, blinking, looking just a little to Ezra's left.

It's in this moment that Ezra realizes the truth, admits it, wholly, completely, entirely. Kanan is _blind_ , milky white, glazed eyes staring off somewhere just out of frame, completely without sight - he'll never see again, and it's all Ezra's fault.

He can't stop the tears that finally break free, doesn't really try, too caught up in this new reality they've been shoved into. His hands hover by Kanan's face, itching to touch but resisting for the extra pain it might cause. Kanan finds his arms again, traces from his elbows to his hands and gently sets Ezra's hands against his cheeks, holds them there as he continues to blink at a spot that's not quite Ezra, and Ezra's tears are warm and quick. Kanan's thumbs run gently against the backs of Ezra's hands.

"Ezra," Kanan says, and his voice is soft, laced with pain that's only mostly physical, "it wasn't your fault."

Ezra takes his hands away, turns to the contents of the medkit instead, unable to look at Kanan any longer, not while he's forgiving him, and he thinks to himself, _coward_. 

"There's a few bacta patches in here," Ezra tells him. "I can clean it and then put those on, wrap it so it stays covered." 

"Ezra."

"It shouldn't - it shouldn't get infected. Mine didn't, and the med droid said something about the - about the heat preventing that." He's trying so hard to keep a level head, to try and not think about what he's saying, _why_  he's saying it, bites the inside of his cheek to try and stop his crying.

"Ezra," Kanan repeats, and Ezra takes a deep breath before he turns to look back at Kanan and it hurts as bad as the first time. So much for controlling his emotions.

"Ezra, it's not your fault. It was Maul's light saber, not yours. Maul's attack, not yours."

"But it is my fault!" Ezra nearly exclaims. "How can you think it's not? I trusted Maul, I believed his lies, I let him lead me right where he wanted me, I - I left you, and - and let him get to you, and - and you tried to tell me but I didn't _listen_ because I thought you didn't, I don't know, I thought you didn't really _care_ , that you didn't trust me or believe in me, and - _Force_ , Kanan this _is_  all my fault! I'm sorry, I'm - I'm _so sorry_."

Ezra's choking on sobs by the time he's done; he's never cried so much in his life, never expected anything to hurt more than finding out the truth about his parents, but _this_ , this tears into his soul, guilt and fear ripping him apart, and he can't seem to _stop_ crying. He slumps forward, forehead landing on Kanan's chest, and Kanan's hands are gentle as they find the top of his head and thread through his hair, rub his back and hold him as he cries.

It takes Ezra a moment to realize, to wade through his own emotions enough to pluck out the ones that _aren't_ his, and he feels worse almost immediately. Here he is, falling apart on top of Kanan over his own mistakes, while Kanan sits here in the dark, completely lost and in pain. Their bond is still thrown open as wide as it goes, and Ezra could have gone his entire life without knowing what it feels like when Kanan cries.

"I don't blame you, Ezra," Kanan tells him, voice thick and jagged. "I don't - I could never. I should've - I should've realized what Maul was planning, should've noticed how close to the Dark Side you were getting, but I didn't - "

"I should've felt it when he attacked you," Ezra says, and they're both crying, a pile of regret and guilt and sadness and pain on the floor of the _Phantom_. "I should've, but I kept pushing you away and I let our bond get so _weak_ , Kanan, I'm _sorry._ " He's clutching at Kanan's shirt again, and Kanan's got part of Ezra's flightsuit in his fists, too. "I should've just listened to you, none of this would've happened, you probably hate me now - _stars_ , Kanan, I'm _so sorry,_ "he repeats, can't think of anything else to say.

"Listen to me, Ezra," Kanan says, and he's squeezing him a little bit tighter. "I don't blame you. It's not your fault. We both made mistakes, but I could never hate you. Don't even think that. I still trust you with my life, I believe in you with everything I have. I see your potential, I promise, and I love you with everything I have, more than anything - I could _never_ hate you."

Ezra's crying again, not that he ever stopped, and he's got Kanan in a vice grip.

"I love you, too," he says, stumbling over the emotion in the words. "So much. I promise, I do. And I'm sorry. I should've listened to you."

They sit, wrapped in each other, for what feels like a small eternity; their Force bond is already on the mend, Ezra can tell, and he pulls away from Kanan enough to look at him when he remembers himself, the situation.

"I've got to clean this," he tells Kanan. "It's probably going to hurt." He sees Kanan's jaw clench, and he's got the cloth in his hand and he hates it, hates knowing his causes Kanan _more_ pain, but it'll only get worse if he doesn't.

"Brace yourself," he says, and Kanan barely even winces when Ezra begins, but they're still deeply connected, and he can feel the echos of great pain, has to force himself to keep going.

The bacta patches are next, soothing and cool, and then Ezra wraps a soft cloth around Kanan's eyes, sits back on his heels when he's done and looks at him, the white strip stark and out of place against his tan skin.

"A med droid needs to look at it," Ezra says. "But that's what I can do for it now."

Kanan reaches up to trace the edges of the bandage. "Thank you," he says, so quiet Ezra almost misses it. There's silence for a beat, and then Kanan's attention returns to Ezra. "How - how bad - " he starts, and Ezra cuts him off.

"Are you - are you sure you want to ask that?" he asks, and thinks to himself, _I'm not sure I can answer that_.

But Kanan nods anyway. "I think I already know. But just - tell me."

Ezra sighs, a shaky thing, and tries his hardest to keep it together. "It's bad," he says, and Kanan doesn't look surprised. "There's no color anymore, just...just white. Looks - looks pretty permanent to me," he says, getting quieter until the last sentence is barely a whisper.

Kanan says nothing, his face doesn't change, but Ezra can feel the acceptance that settles into his bones, next to an anger that's hot and bright and fast, and Ezra's tried of feeling so guilty but knows it'll never stop.

"Okay," Kanan says eventually, and it's not, not really, but this is the way it is now, so it'll have to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> fuck maul. kill this bitch with fire.


End file.
